Sparda's Winter
by GasMaskGeek
Summary: After the event's of Fortuna, Nero finds himself wondering more and more about his origins. Now carrying the Yamato rather than the Red Queen, he traversed Europe to the city of Moscow in Russia, searching for answers. He wants to know just who the man named Vergil is, and how they are connected; however the underworld makes sure he will pay a heavy price for the information.
1. Introduction

"_He is a son of Sparda. You've heard it, haven't you? The legend of the demon that saved all of humanity from the grasp of darkness. They those with silver hair have the blood of Sparda flowing through their veins. It makes me wonder, why would a person of that lineage come here? It's nothing but a ghost town."_

Nero drugged on through the snow-covered mountains, across frozen lakes, and eventually to the city of Moscow. He really didn't know the purpose for coming here; traveling across Europe to a city he'd known nothing about. The only thing that drove him was a voice in his head that kept telling him to visit, look around, and learn something. The people of the city watched and stared as he walked by, hood covering his head, gun holster gently bouncing against his leg due to the strap starting to wear down and become loose, and katana strapped to his side. These days he rarely found himself using his prized sword, Red Queen. He felt somewhat of a stronger connection to Yamato and could cut through any demon that stood in his path with ease. The city thrived with street performers, food vendors, dancers, and so on. Nero concluded he'd wandered into town during the middle of a festival, and thought to himself _'Oh boy just what I need.'_ He stared at the ground as he proceeded onwards to wherever it was his heart told him to go. Along the way he bumped into an elderly woman carrying what appeared to be a grocery bag. Like a gentleman, he helped her gather her things back together in one bag and handed it to her, not noticing his hood had fallen backwards while doing so, revealing his face. She looked at him and smiled, asking the question, "Do you know a man named Vergil?" Nero felt his heart tighten when she intrigued about the man named Vergil. Nero knew not a thing of anyone named Vergil, but felt a connection to the name. He covered up the tightness in his chest and kept a calm expression, politely answering her, "No I'm sorry. I don't know anyone by that name." The elderly woman noticed the blade attached to Nero's side, and simply shook her head. "It's a shame. He was quite a powerful man who once saved this city, just as his father before him saved the human race. He was such a bitter man, but had a heart of gold underneath it all. Very honorable," she concluded as she began to talk away, "Your eyes and hair remind me of that man."

Nero pondered about this mysterious man named Vergil, for that was not the first encounter he had with that question. Many people stated that he reminded them of that man, in both fighting ability and appearance. He looked towards the stars in the night sky, and watched as the snow made it seem as if those stars were falling. Ever since he was a child, Nero loved the winter-time and snow. So many nights he'd spent with Kyrie inside of her parents' home near the front of a fire place, making up stories about snow fairies that watched over them, or gigantic golems made of ice that protected the city in Sparda's place. That was the last time in his life he felt he had a family, or anyone that cared for his being. As he watched the snowflakes traverse from the blackened night sky, his mind wandered to a place it hadn't gone in years, and that was his origins, parents, where he truly came from. The festival's crowd surrounded him while frolicking in the merriment and celebration of culture. A boy, no older than twelve, approached him and waved his hands in the air trying to garner his attention. Nero blinked a few times, having his deep thought broken. He looked at the child and asked, "What do you want?" The boy pulled a scarf from the messenger bag he wore and handed it to the demon-hybrid and said, "It's snowing a cold sir. I want to give you this scarf so you don't freeze and to show the people of Moscow appreciate you." Not wanting to make a bad first impression, Nero accepted the scarf and wrapped it around his neck. Before he could asked the child what he meant by appreciating him, the child was gone as if he vanished into thin air. The scarf's pattern was the flag of Russia.

Eventually Nero found himself wandering into a bar that was packed wall to wall like a container of sardines, and nearly every single soul there was drunk beyond competence of any kind. The only person capable of coherent conversation was the bar tender, whom Nero approached and asked, "Who is Vergil? Is he here?" The bartender was a man in his mid-thirties, red hair, notable Irish accent, who answered Nero with a nod of disagreement, much to the devil's disappointment. Just as he was about to leave, someone grabbed his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Nero gripped his gun and was ready to turn and shoot, but stopped when he heard a familiar voice say, "Vergil? I can tell you about him. He's my brother, after all." Nero turned and faced the voice, eyes widened. "Dante." He said in a whisper, surprised to find him here. "What you doing here you old bastard?" he asked. Dante laughed, and took a seat at one of the bar's stools. He motioned for Nero to sit next to him and said, "That's no way to greet family, now is it?"

__


	2. A Chance Encounter

Skeptical at first, Nero reluctantly took a seat next to the silver-haired devil. The last time they'd seen each other was during the demon war in Fortuna city, which caused Nero to wonder why Dante would ever come to Russia in the first place. His body stayed tense and ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Dante led the conversation, starting it off by saying, "So how have things been since that big shit storm in Fortuna?" He motioned for the bartender to come over, and placed an order for two strawberry sundaes.

Nero looked at Dante with a rather somber expression. While it was true his relationship with Kyrie had made further progression upon their admission for each other's shared feelings, he still felt darkness loomed over his heart. He had trouble accepting that he was in fact not wholly a human being, regardless of Kyrie's feelings for him. Nero feared a day would come where he would no longer be able to control his demonic heart and end up hurting those precious to him, but he wasn't about to spill all of that to Dante whom claimed to be family. He replied with a simple, "Things have been okay. Thought about some stuff. Killed some demons. The usual." The bartender returned with the sundaes and gave one to each of his silver-haired patrons. Nero looked at his with disgust.

"What's wrong, don't like strawberry?" Dante asked. Nero shook his head and slid the flavored frozen delight to the side. Dante laughed, and decided to take the other sundae for himself. He could never pass up a chance to devour pizza or something strawberry flavored. Quickly he finished his own treat, and said, "You know. He hated strawberry too. Always preferred chocolate," before picking up the sweet berry form atop the ice cream and popping it into his mouth. Nero looked on with confusion. He waited patiently for Dante to finish his desserts. After finishing, the devil donned in red was washed over in a serious tone. Ceasing to beat around the bush, Dante said, "The man named Vergil. He's your-" His statement was interrupted with a loud explosion coming from outside of the bar. Both of the men rushed outside to see what the cause of the fulmination was.

Outside the scene resembled the look of the midst of an apocalypse. Flames took over several buildings and charred the fruit stands and other festive booths set up throughout the city. Children ran freely through the streets, screaming and crying for their parents. One teenager tried lifting the rubble from a building off of his obviously deceased father. He looked to the two devil hunters and shouted, "Please help me!" Before the two could reach him, his body snapped to the side, appearing to be taken away by an invisible force. Nero shouted, "Shit!" and charged after the teenager, only to be stopped by Dante, who still held a calm composure.

"Let him go Nero. You can't save them all, and if what took him away is what I think it is, you have a snowball's chance in hell of beating it." Nero tried to break free from the older male's grip, but his attempts ended in failure. Dante had a strength that Nero couldn't compare to. "It's a Ziodran. They are roughly ten times your size, can turn invisible, and control water. Hope you know how to swim, kid." The last remark Dante made by referring to Nero as a child infuriated the latter, causing him to recklessly activate his devil trigger, attracting more demons to their location. Within seconds the duo found themselves surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of pale-white, black-eyed, bloodied demons wielding swords the protruded from their own flesh, like an extension of their bones. Nero slashed his sword around like a madman, swinging at everything in his path; however his blade connected to not a single monster, and his devil trigger faded away within minutes of its activation.

Dante grabbed the young man by his shirt using his left hand and shouted, "Where the hell is your focus!?" then striking him with a hard right jab. Dante had always found it best to make people listen by way of force. "Here we are in the middle of the underworld's idea of a brawl, and all you're doing is throwing a temper tantrum! How do you ever expect to find out anything about Vergil while acting like that? He would be disappointed in you. Get your nerve back and help me kill these things."

Nero listened to his elder and tried to calm himself, steadying his nerves, and preparing himself mentally to fight for his life. Although he carried demon blood in his body, he knew it was not possible for him to survive as long as Dante could on his own. They would have to work together if they wanted to come out triumphant over the slew of demonic souls. He held the Yamato firmly with his Devil Bringer, and fought alongside the red devil in an attempt to buy some breathing room for the two of them to think clearly and figure out what the cause of this fiasco was. He quietly said to himself, "I don't know who you are, Vergil, but I refuse to make you disappointed."

Eventually the two sword-masters cleared enough space to make an escape. Nero escaped to the city rooftops using the power granted to him by his right arm, and Dante followed in tow. Nero stood, overlooking the city and all of its newly found chaos. He felt a somber feeling wash over his body. There were thousands of people running around in the streets, having no clue as to what was happening around them. Most humans are unable to see demons, rendering them only able to watch as people where sliced in half or turned inside out. He'd been plummeted right back into the middle of chaos again. Dante stood beside the young man, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He said, "It's a lot to take in, isn't it kid? I've seen this happen time and time again during my life, and gets no less shocking every time. The only bit of advice I can give to you is something a woman once told me. Sometimes even a devil may cry. Never try and play the tough guy when you know you'll lose. It's okay to lose. The difference between a man and a child is knowing what your limitations are."

Nero stepped away from Dante, frustrated in be talked down to in such a manner. He looked Dante straight in his eyes and said, "I am not a child! I can take on any challenge, any time, any place! I'll find Vergil on my own and figure everything out on my own! I'll get rid of every single last demon here and free this people, and….." Nero ceased crying out in anger and hatred, realizing that if the girl he loved most was here, she would probably be scared of him. He looked at Dante once again, seeing his elder's expression had not changed and still was uncharacteristically serious. "I'm sorry…." Nero said, and he continued, "Sometimes I don't know how to feel. I hate, not knowing who I am. I hate not knowing my parents. I hate being so damn frustrated all the time. I want to be a hero and be known for something good that I done, not having to be directed by God. Why. Why can't I just be a good person, why does it always have to be magic?"

Dante approached the clearly frustrated young man, and hit him once again, only not as hard this time. "Calm down. Getting yourself all riled up will get you nowhere," Dante looked to the ground, and placed one hand behind his head, "Jeez. I never thought I'd find myself having to play a responsible father figure. Teenagers can be such a pain." Nero raised his hand to speak, but Dante stopped him. "I know, I know. You're going to say 'I'm not a teenager because I'm in my twenties'. Yeah, I thought that too at one time. Don't consider yourself an adult so early. You're still learning." Nero's response to this was a frown and nothing more. Before Dante could lecture the young swordsman any farther, Nero was ripped away from the rooftop, and sent through a hellish void suspended in the air. Dante tried following him through the void, but his attempts were fruitless and he landed on the now snowy blood-stained streets of Moscow.

Nero knew not where he was going or what had grabbed him. He tried and tried to break free from the mysterious force's grasp, but failed and was knocked out by the best carrying him. When Nero awoke, he found himself chained to a wall in what appeared to be an isolation chamber used for secluded patients in mental wards. His weapons were gone, his body stripped of nearly all its coverings, with the exception of undergarments. His head pounded with pain, and his eyes burned worse than anything he'd experienced before. His vision was blurry, but good enough for him to see his surroundings. The walls were splattered with drawings created with blood, and the floor was littered with bones and skulls, hinting that he may not be the first to be restrained within this room. On the door in giant scratched letters read, "SPARDA MUST DIE."

Nero hung his head and closed his eyes. He thought to himself, _'Can I ever catch a freaking break?'_


	3. A Whirlwind of Emotion

Nero tugged and pulled on the chains restraining him but to no avail, failed to break free. He felt helpless once again, like a child watching as their friend's parent scolding them. No food, water, any kind of bedding was provided within his confinement. The glow of a torch illuminated the inside of the room from a small window on the chamber's door. The young man could hear quiet steps walking to and fro. He'd thought of yelling out to whoever, or whatever was making its rounds, but thought it would be best to keep quiet for now. The mysterious footsteps made their rounds four times, and then finally came to a stop at Nero's door. Two knocks echoed throughout the room, no voice, and then it slowly opened, revealing the figure to be a man with white hair, similar to Nero's own. At first he'd thought it was Dante coming to rescue him, although he'd never admit he needed help; however when the man stepped closer it became apparent that he was much older than Nero, having stress lines stretched back from his eyes, which also where the same color as Nero's. Nero felt a strange connection to the man.

The man asked, "Are you the son of Sparda?" Nero didn't answer. The man asked once again, "Sparda. Are you related?" Nero shook his head in disagreement. The man looked to the ground and smiled to himself, as if he knew something Nero did not. He looked back up at Nero, eyes telling a thousand stories of pain, grief, war, and bloodshed. A twinkle of happiness shone through the darkness as the man said, "Of course you're not his son. You're his grandson."

The sudden information came as a shock to the young silver-haired devil. A mixture of confusion, frustration, and happiness washed over his body. The surge of energy fueled his body with enough strength to break free from the chains holding him against the cold brick wall. The orderly looked on in amazement, surprised the chains appeared to break so easily. Nero stood, staring at the man, wondering just how he would react. The man just smiled to himself once again and said, "That's just the kind of strength I expect from an heir of the Sparda bloodline…." he paused, making a kind of face that people make when they are debating a serious topic, and then continued, "Your weapons and clothes. I can take you to them. But I need your help. My son, as well as many other innocent people, is being held here. I can get you a guard's uniform similar to my own so you don't arouse suspicions. I need you to help me plant bombs around the facility."

Nero listened as the man explained what he had to say, but brushed it off as a crazy person's ramblings. "I don't know who you are, where we are, what I'm doing here, why I'm here, or who the hell Sparda is and why you say I'm his grandson. I don't know anything about my family except that we all apparently have the same hair." The young man looked around for anything he could use to cover-up. Regardless of how in shape he was, like a child, he felt insecure about running around with so much skin exposed. Because of this, he quietly contemplated taking the guard up on his offer.

The silver-haired guard took a deep breath, showing signs of being stressed. He looked to the young man with concern, and shook his head from side to side. He didn't want to give himself away, for he knew what would be his eventual final act in life; however he ultimately decided it would be best to spill the beans early, rather than expect Nero to work with him and know nothing. The man took another deep breath and said with a very confident, royal-like voice, "I'm Sparda. The man you hear about in legends that gave up his powers for the human race and died a man. It is true, I did die a man. But after death, my demon heart still resided here in the underworld, causing me to be reborn back into demon flesh. I've managed to regain my human form, and have been working here as prison guard. Most of the demons do not know that I'm Sparda, so I have been able to get by without much of a problem. However, my son who walked to crooked path has ended up confined in this prison just as you are. He's been charged with trying to overthrow the underworld's hierarchy and dethrone Lucifer. You see if our bloodline reigned over the underworld, things could change. Things could get better for both demons and humans. I-"

Nero stopped the man dead in his tracks by covering the man's mouth with his demonic hand. "Stop your rambling geezer. So, if I heard you correctly, you want me to believe you're the guy that cult worshipped and built that giant statue of. You think I believe a demon gave up his life for humans, and had children with a human woman? It all sounds like a child's bedtime story if you ask." Nero played the man's words over and over again a thousand times in his head, and the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Dante claimed to be related to the young man, and said Vergil was related as well somehow. Nero asked the guard, "If you're really Sparda, then Dante and Vergil are your children right? Who is Vergil? How is he related to me and why have I found myself so attached to the Yamato sword?"

The guard sighed and pulled Nero's hand away from his mouth. Like the young man had asked, Sparda quit beating around the bush and said, "He's your father. Vergil is your father, and you are my grandson. Are you going to help me or not?" his tone became solemn compared to his previous calm manner. A feeling emitted from him that made Nero feel uneasy, and he balled his hands into fists, as well as bit his lip. He shouted, "So you expect me to believe that? I lived my life being told I was nothing more than a bastard child, and now suddenly you say I have a dad?!" Sparda reached one hand out to Nero and gripped onto his shoulder, squeezing so hard it was barely shy of breaking his bone.

"You're the only grandson I have and I don't want to see you end up being a brat who can't confront or take anything. You can cry and whine all you want about your father, but I've been watching over you your entire life whether you believe it or not. Instead of acting all pissy, grow a pair and be the kind of person you'd want your daughter to marry." Nero looked at the man both in pain and confusion. He wondered if his grip was that tight, just how strong was he in battle. Nero asked him with sincerity, "Daughter? But I… I don't have a kid, do I?" Sparda released Nero's shoulder, and Nero rubbed his hand over it. He felt an intense heat radiating from his skin. The knight demonic who'd lost his shield and armor said, "Like I said, I've been watching over you. Do you understand how much pain I felt only being able to look at you through a mirror? It hurt, a lot. But a man learns to grit his teeth and keep walking forward. I'm sure you have many questions. I'll be happy to answer them after you help me blow this place to smithereens." Nero couldn't think of any words to be worthy of a response, so he simply shook his head in agreement.

Before planting any kind of bombs, Sparda gather Nero's things from the room used to hole the prisoner's things, as well as a spare guard's uniform for Nero to wear for the time being. He couldn't walk around in his normal clothes and nobody be suspicious. Sparda hid Nero's things outside of the complex near hedges surrounding a monument. He returned inside and Nero was dressed, hair combed, and body cleaned enough for him to pass as a guard. The two made normal rounds throughout the prison, so as to learn the others' routes. After doing so, they planted the bombs one by one in a hurried pace, because they'd both realized dinner time was quickly approaching and someone would figure out that Nero had escaped. After all of the bombs were placed, the two slipped outside through a hole in the wall Sparda had made previously. It was a brick wall he'd torn through and restacked, so all he had to do was pull a single brick out and the rest caved in. The two escaped outside and ran to a forest surrounding the prison after he gathered his things from the monument. Nero looked to his surroundings and commented, "I never expected Hell to look so much like Earth." He noticed the trigger Sparda held in his hands and asked, "What about Vergil? When the place blows, how will he know where to go?"

Sparda answered, "We've discussed this before. He knows to come in this direction. Follow my lead after he gets here. I've arranged for us to have a place to stay while things cool down, although I hadn't included enough food for you as we didn't plan to have you here." He activated the detonator, and like dominoes falling on a child's play-table room after room caved in. Sirens sounded, lights flashed, people came pouring outside like a pack of dogs, running wildly away from the explosions and falling rocks. Through the smoke, Nero could see the figure of a man with shackles hanging from his wrists running their direction. He blinked once and the figure was standing right in front of him. Nero looked into his eyes and felt his stomach drop. His heart pounded, his blood coursed rapidly though his veins, and his brain thought a thousand different things at once. Nobody said a word, and the trio took off running towards the mountains in the distance. Nero felt nervous and uneasy about the situation, but continued on anyways so he could ask the man a few questions.


	4. Descent into Hell

The trio rand and ran, dodging branches and snake holes as they made their way through the forest. Nero had not a clue of where they were headed, only that it was supposed to be some place safe. Eventually the trio came to what looked to be a run-down post office. The man in shackles rammed the door with his shoulder and forced it off its hinges, sending splinters flying everywhere. Sparda and Nero followed him inside, to which its surroundings revealed to indeed be a post office of sorts, but hadn't been used in years. The prisoner darted into a room with a large table in the center with chairs surrounding it. He took a seat to catch his breath, and looked up at Sparda as if he were waiting for someone to speak. The other two caught up to him, Nero standing behind his grandfather, and returned his expression of expectance.

Sparda broke the silence by saying, "Glad you were able to make it out okay, I was worried you would have gotten caught up in the explosion." The prisoner huffed and said, "You really expected someone like me to fall prey to something so weak? It's been far too long since the last time we spent time together, hasn't it father?" Nero pushed Sparda to the side and charged at the man in shackles, and shouted, "You're Vergil?! You're him, the man who abandoned me when I was a baby?! My entire life I've been miserable, hated by nearly everyone, and you have the nerve so much as to not even look at me?!" he grabbed Vergil by his shirt collar and jerked him up from his seat, continuing, "Do you know how hard it was for me to be accepted? Even now only a handful of people don't see me as a monster…" The young man looked away towards the ground and let go of Vergil's shirt. In response to Nero's rant, all Vergil said was, "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have any children," in a nonchalant manner.

Nero reared his demonic fist back and punched Vergil in the jaw with every ounce of strength he could summon, though it only tipped his chair back and appeared to do no damage. Vergil recoiled and raised his legs, delivering a bone breaking kick to Nero's chest, sending him flying backwards and through the wall across from them and into another room. Nero groaned in pain and gasped for air, recovering himself moments later. He stood up and readied himself to take another charge to Vergil, but was stopped by Sparda when he tried to do so. The Dark Knight silently looked at both of them, exerting a kind of pressure that neither had experienced before. Nero stepped backwards and sighed, growing frustrated with his own weakness. He grabbed the Yamato from his side and held it out in front of him. "This sword, it's yours isn't it? If I'm not your son, why I am so attached to it?" Vergil turned his head to the side and sounded disappointed when he said, "No son of mine would have been knocked back so easily. It sickens me to see your fingerprints on my sword. Kindly give it back, would you?"

Nero's body seethed with rage. Barely able to contain himself, Nero stormed off to the front of the post office and shouted loud enough for any being in Hell to hear, "I'll kill Lucifer myself!" and left. When he stepped outside, he'd found hordes of the demons waiting to greet him. He returned the Yamato to his side, and pulled it out from its sheath. Blade in one hand and gun in the other, Nero made his way through, blood splattering all over his clothing and face. He never imagined he'd wade through a river of death like this, but he had a goal and was going to see to it that it was fulfilled; however it seemed like the more demons he killed, the more came back in their place. Before he let himself get too overrun, Nero spotted a cliff not too far away. He wasn't entirely sure if it was possible, but he outstretched his devil bringer to the cliff's ledge in hopes of being able to lift him away from the situation at hand. He pulled himself up onto the cliff, and was greeted by an all too familiar face. He felt excited like a child on Christmas morning when he seen Dante waiting for him. Nero asked, "How did you get here?" Dante answered, "That's a story for another time. You being here….. You've already met Vergil, right?" Confused Nero pondered about why Dante would ask that question, but nonetheless shook his head in agreement and added, "He's an asshole."

Dante laughed and said, "He's always been that way. Even as kids, I was the only one with a sense of adventure, and the only who laughed and smiled. Vergil he… He was very obsessed with our heritage, completely killing his human side before giving it a chance," he turned his back towards Nero and faced a gigantic door in the mountainside then continued, "You know Lucifer is down in the center of this mountain. You want to take him out before Old Mister Captain Grouchy Pants can right? I guess I have some time to kill. It's not like there's any pizza parlors nearby." Nero huffed and said, "I can do it on my own. I don't need your help, or anyone else's for that matter." Dante sighed, grabbing the Rebellion from his back and holding it firmly in both hands. He forced his blade between a small opening in the double doors guarding the cave entrance, and forced it open using the sword like a crowbar. He returned the blade to its rightful spot and turned to Nero, asking him, "Which side of you are you going to let rule? Human or devil? You don't want to be an outcast or a monster. I felt the same way at one time, we all do. Take it from someone that walked the same road as you. Don't lock your heart away and hide it form people. If you do, you'll turn into Vergil."

Nero ran to Dante's side at the cave's entrance and said, "I'm never going to be anything like him, damn bastard." He looked inside the opening and was greeted by a scene of flesh and bones hanging from the cave's ceiling and stalagmites protruding from the ground. The air reeked of iron and burning ash from deep inside. As the two swordsmen stepped through the door's threshold they heard a bell toll, which shook both of them to the core, regardless of their strength and technique. Nero had been told stories his entire life by The Order of the 'final bell toll' that rings throughout the underworld to signal someone's doom. He looked to Dante like a frightened child looking for an answer, to which Dante said, "Too late to get shaky feet now." Dante walked on ahead of Nero, dropping down off the cliff shortly after the entrance down onto the cave floor. He looked up and shouted, "You coming or not kid?" There it was again, that stinging word of being called a _**kid.**_ Gathering his courage, Nero pressed forward and caught up to Dante once again. He was uncharacteristically nervous, but anyone, human or demon, would fear death if it reared its ugly head.

Oddly enough the cave seemed to be empty, which Nero questioned. Dante told him, "Nice palace huh? This is what Lucifer calls home. Seems a bit boring if you ask me. Dear old dad always told me about this place, and he said there are nine floors, one for every sin, Limbo, and the King himself sits at the bottom unchallenged. Supposedly a man went through this very place many years ago, who shared my name. He had a guide who shared my brother's name, and that's how dad named us. This that we are walking in right now is Limbo, where the souls of people who never really thought about religion but were still decent people go, as well as un-baptized babies." While listening to Dante's story as they walked, Nero looked around and could see faint shadows of what looked to be people and children of varying ages. It made him question his own views and wonder if this was the place he'd go when he died. He heard people weeping, laughing, and having conversations. He saw children playing with one another, and others hiding in crevices just staring as he and Dante passed by. He seen the philosopher Socrates perched on a rock contemplating. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. So many people from history in Limbo.

Dante stopped at another doorway and faced Nero. He asked, "Are you ready? Are you sure you really want to go through with this?" Nero shook his head in agreement and flattened his hand against the door. Together he and Dante forced it open and were sucked into a whirling vortex of wind and heat. He felt no ground beneath him, but was oddly balanced as the wind slowed down. He tried his best to stay close to Dante, for he had experience in Hell that Nero lacked. He looked around in all directions for another door, wanting to rush to the bottom. Nero asked, "How they hell do we move on?" Dante smiled at him and said, "You have to get past that thing first," while pointing at a humongous solid white black-widow with a human woman's head. It's eyes were purple in color, and it's hair was black. It sat in the center of the vortex resting on a marble pillar, watching the two Sparda descendants closely and waiting to see if they'd strike.

Nero grabbed the Yamato from his side, but when he tried to charge forward he just ended up doing a front-flip and staying in place. "The hell?" he muttered. Dante laughed at Nero's misfortune and maneuvered around in the groundless space like he'd been there several times before. Dante watched his nephew's frustration grow and grow until he'd finally seen enough and told him, "Use your head. Envision how you want to move. That's how the Lust circle works. Think. People imagine all the time about the whole Romeo and Juliet runaway and nights of intense passion more often than actually doing the deed. Put yourself in their shoes." Sure enough when Nero imagined himself walking and moving normally it reflected physically; however right as he was getting the gist of moving, the black widow started to make its move.

It spoke in a rumbling voice, "Tiny man. Puny man. Lost man. Angry man. Frustrated man….." the widow's eyes made contact with Nero's, "Dead man," it shouted before lunging at the youngest man of the Sparda bloodline.


End file.
